Magic of a Different Sort
by MovinTarget666
Summary: The Dragonborn is tired, so he makes a deal with the Deadric lord of change, and ends up in yet another world with dragons...but this one is a bit different and has its own champion.
1. Never Deal with Deadra

Magic of a Different Kind

Adam sat in his chamber, looking at the stones on the opposite wall. He had done so much and Lydia had chosen to have all of his deeds inscribed in stone for him. The wall was covered in the tale of the Dovahkiin; High Elf prisoner, Arch-Mage, Nightingale, Listener, Harbinger, an agent and champion of several if not all Deadric lords and Divines. He had been living a life of continuous action for three years now and he was growing tired. Even now the Thalmor threat approached, and the Dovahkiin could not bring himself to think to hard about them. He day would come when they asked him to deal with the threat they possessed, and he would do it.

Sighing to himself, Adam stood from his throne, his Realmshatter armor groaning as he did so. He had done so much, and it was time to leave. He had done it before, after Martin had killed himself fighting Mehrunes Dagon he had left Cyrodiil for a while, travelled the world. Holding the dagger that had been given to him by the lord of change he sighed, change was something that was needed in life. He needed change.

Walking to the antechamber of his tower he pressed a button and walked out the front door. He watched as his tower collapsed into its own pocket dimension. He hoped Lydia and Serana wouldn't mind the change in scenery. They never seemed to but the change he was thinking was far more drastic than anything he had done before. They had both expressed the wish to exit the never ending conflict in their land.

"_Od-ah-viing!"_

The shout burst from his mouth with a great expelling of air, followed moments later by the return call of a great dragon. Odahviing fell from the skies in a steep dive and saw the Dovahkiin standing in the center of a clearing, waiting for him. The great dragon gave a huff and landed in front of the impetuous mortal.

"Why have you called Dovahkiin?" it asked in a voice that boomed even in a conversation.

"I require your aid for one last journey," Adam told the red beast in front of him, "I have grown tired of the constant battles and feel that I could use a bit of peace in my life. So I am leaving Tamriel."

Odahviing blinked several times at what the elf in front of him had said. The thought that such a stalwart individual had chosen to leave was confusing to a large degree. Leaving was such a strange idea to the dragon that it had never thought of the possibility himself. Shaking his head he refocused on the Elf waiting patiently for his response, "Where do you wish to go?"

The Dovahkiin took a strange knife from his belt and held it to his eyes. Still looking at the blade he said, "Mehrunes Dagon has agreed to take me to a place more peaceful than Tamriel in exchange for his dagger. Any place can be better than here."

Odahviing nodded and lowered his neck, "Then climb on my back Dovahkiin, and we shall be off."

Re-seething the knife, the Dovahkiin climbed onto Odahviing's neck and arranged himself into a comfortable position. As the dragon ascended into the air the sun began to set. His armor gave off a slight purple glow, acting as the only light source once the sun disappeared along the horizon. Taking a deep breath of Tamriel's air, Adam realized he would soon be gone from the land he had called home for his whole life. A smile crept along his face at the thought of finally being granted a bit of peace, he was not foolish enough to believe that the Deadric lord would give him perfect peace, but anywhere a bit more peaceful was better than Tamriel at the moment.

The flight was a quick one, but it gave time to think. As he began his descent Odahviing asked a question he had wished to ask for several moments, "Is it possible for me to accompany you? I have grown weary of this world myself."

Adam had time to contemplate the answer as they coasted down to the shrine. After some time he said, "Possibly, the change to whatever we arrive at would be even larger with your arrival, he may accept."

As they approached the landing sight a great pulse of magic erupted from the statue on the shrine. The great stone figure stood and looked at the descending pair. Raising a hand above its head the figure created a massive orb of swirling, pulsing magic that grew larger with every second. Odahviing attempted to pull out from his dive, but the statue simply hurled the ball of magic at the slowing dragon.

The ball slammed into the red dragon and his rider, causing shrieks of pure agony to rip through their bodies and souls before dissolving them into ash. The statue turned back to its resting place, stopping only to pick up a small knife that had fallen to the ground. A dark chuckle escaped the Deadric Prince's lips as he whispered to the wind, **"Safe travels Champion."**

Fus-Ro-Dah

Harry Potter took a deep breath in order to calm himself; he was not having much luck. The cheers of the crowd outside the tent were playing havoc on his nerves and making the entire experience a whole lot worse. Thank whatever god there was that Professor Moody had gotten him to think of an idea, granted it would probably get him killed; but it was an idea.

"And last but certainly not least, HARRY POTTER!"

The sound of Ludo Bagman's voice was grating on his nerves, but he couldn't do much about it now. Taking another breath, he held it in for a moment before exhaling and stepping through the exit of the tent. The light was blinding for what felt like an eternity before his eyes grew accustomed to the shine of the sun. Standing at the far end of the arena was a Hungarian Horntail, staring at him in a way that made him feel like a juicy steak ready to be eaten.

Gulping audibly he intakes and says, "_Acio_ Firebolt!"

He then put his wand away and waited. The crowd soon became restless, hoping that their savior would fight the dragon in an epic fashion befitting the boy-who-lived. The wait lasted a minute before some of the crowd began to point at an approaching figure in the sky, Harry's Firebolt broomstick. It was coasting through the air without a person on it and eventually stopped in front of the incredibly relieved champion. Hopping on his broom, Harry took several practice swoops around the arena and the increasingly angry dragon.

On Harry's fifth pass the Horntail finally lost its patience and lunged at him from some twenty feet away. Harry smiled to himself and performed a move that would make professional players jealous, he flipped his broom upside-down and few along the underside of the dragon and snatching the golden egg from the nest. Pulling up immediately, Harry looked behind him to see the dragon glaring at the egg in his hand and following his swaying with every movement it made.

The Hungarian Horntail let out a massive roar of rage and hate and leapt after the boy. The degree to which it had been enraged had risen to the point where the heavy chains that were used to secure the dragon gave a audible groan before snapping, allowing the dragon the chance to take flight after the human that had stolen one of its eggs.

Harry saw the dragon fly towards him and took off up into the air. He flew so high that eventually the air became so scarce that he had trouble breathing. Taking a look back he saw that the dragon was far behind him and he decided to take a gamble that might actually let him escape the sky with his life.

As he was about to angle downwards a pulse of magic nearly threw him from his broom. Holding on for dear life he looked around him and saw that Horntail had stopped as well, looking at something to his left. Looking in the same direction as the dragon, he saw a giant ball of magic coalescing in mid-air. It seemed to be forming into the figure of a massive dragon, easily twice the size of the Horntail.

As the dragon became clearer Harry saw that there was a figure on the massive dragon's back, dressed in armor that glowed a feint purple and spike with bone and tusks that looked to be more than just for show. As the pair finally materialized fully they began to fall towards the ground. Hoping he could do something to help them, the boy-who-lived dove after the falling dragon.

Lok-Vah-Koor

Adam woke to a great roar. Shaking his head he looked about himself and saw that he was still on Odahviing's back. What he did not expect was the enraged dragon barreling at them from bellow. The strange golden dragon rammed into Odahviing's belly and woke the still dazed dragon fully, as well as knocking the Dragonborn from his perch and out into open air.

The two dragons began their battle in earnest; the small spiked one making up for size with sheer ferocity and Odahviing using his millennia of experience to play with the annoyance while searching for the now helpless Dovahkiin. What the old dragon saw surprised him even more than the strange dragon attacking him, a small boy of what could only be fifteen seasons at most was diving towards the spinning Dovahkiin on a broomstick.

Adam saw the boy hurtling towards him and blinked, was that a broom? Now he new he was mad, no being would use something as silly as a broom to fly! The young Breton flew close to him and said in strangely accented English, "Grab onto my broom! Hurry!"

The confused Dovahkiin looked at the young Breton in confusion and asked, "how in Oblivion would grabbing a broom help?"

"Just grab on if you do not want to die!" Harry yelled in exasperation. The ground was growing ever closer; the man had perhaps thirty seconds before he was a bloody stain on the dirt. So it was with incredible confusion that Harry watched him flip over in mid-air and look at the ground.

"This is a good opportunity to test something I have always wanted to try!" the man yelled at Harry as he fell. Harry realized there was no way to talk the madman out of killing himself and pulled up at perhaps the last sensible moment.

Adam took a deep breath and held it for a few precious seconds, before expelling it in a great shout, "_FUS-RO-DAH!"_

The shout left him mouth and pushed against the ground, kicking up a huge cloud of dust. The crowd watched in terrified silence as the man fell into the brown cloud and many had to turn away as they did not want to see the bloody mess that there would be when the dust settled.

Those that kept their eyes upon the cloud watched as it slowly dissipated, and as enough fell to reveal what was in the middle of the arena many of them gasped in astonishment. The people who had turned away were made to look through sheer curiosity and saw to their and all other's astonishment the man who had fallen to earth perfectly unharmed.

Joor-Zah-Frul

Odahviing became annoyed when the little dragon did not stop attacking him. It had been entertaining for the first few minutes but after that it had become an exercise in patience. Growling in frustration the great red dragon finally lost any illusions of playfulness and swatted the little golden pest to the ground.

It crashed onto the far side of the arena, hurt but still alive. Almost as soon as it was down beams of red light sprang from the surrounding mortals and struck the dragon. It fell to the ground fully, unconscious. The humans who had shot the red beams at it aimed their little wooden sticks at Odahviing and he growled, "I would not threaten me if I were you mortal! I have ripped my fair share of Bretons in two."

The Bretons with the sticks slowly lowered their arms and stared at the giant red dragon in front of them. It glared at them in turn and huffed, turning to the man who fell. It spoke again, and said, "I will be near if you need me Dovahkiin. I will be taking my much needed rest."

The apparent human in armor nodded his head and the great dragon took to the air towards the forbidden forest and the mountains after. The crowd let out a collective cry of panic, waiting for the great red dragon to try and eat them. When no such event occurred all eyes returned to the armored individual in the arena that the four champions were facing their dragons in not five minutes previously.

The armored man looked about himself and saw the collective eyes of a thousand people staring at him, he sighed and reached for his head. Everybody watched in rapt attention as the man removed the hood like helmet to his armor. Underneath was a mane of ragged white hair reaching down to golden shoulders; the face was of a man nearly as scarred as Mad-Eye Moody, with a golden right eye and a long scar intersecting his left making it a milky white.

Adam looked at the crowd, who stared back at him, and cursed in several languages never heard on earth.


	2. Pleasant interuptions

Magic of a Different Sort Chapter 2

Harry stared at the man cursing in some foreign language. He looked about thirty by human standards, which he was clearly not. First hint was the golden skin, not tanned like some people from New Jersey, but actual gold in color. Second was the ears, they were pointed, but not in the comedic way with house-elves or the intimidating way with the goblins, but in a way that advertised the wisdom in his eyes, the age of his face; in short making him appear as more than a man, quite possibly a pagan god incarnate.

While all of this was flitting through his mind, Harry slowly descended to the ground a few yards from the golden man. His soft landing attracted the man's attention and he turned to the boy-who-lived, looking at the fourteen year old with appraising eyes. The look made Harry want to avert his gaze and look away, but he felt that if he did that he would lose something in himself and to the man in front of him. So he kept his eyes level with the stranger's, and if possible the crowd grew even more attentive to the scene bellow.

After a moment the mismatched eyes softened their gaze and a hand was held out to the savior of the wizarding world, which the savior took. Both could see in each other's eyes the experience that was not meant to be there; the looks of a man who saw to much too fast, but came out better than they were before.

"Adam"

"Harry"

Thus they introduced themselves to each other and a grin broke out on the golden man's face. He slapped Harry on the shoulder and looked as though he were about to say something… before a stunning spell raced at him from behind, causing Harry's eyes to widen.

Feim-Zii-Gron

The eyes were enough for Adam to know. With the speed born of an assassin trained he turned faster that any human could see and threw up a ward. The spell that bounced off of his barrier was a lesser version of the one used to subdue the feral dragon before. The red beam of light reflected back at the caster of the spell, a rather skinny man with a strange hat and the oddest mustache Adam had ever seen.

The thin man's eyes widened in shock as his spell hit him and he was flung back into the chair he had been in previously. Eyes in the stands exchanged between the downed man and the ward in Adam's hand, clearly surprised. This confused the Dragonborn, as the people here obviously had magic and knew how to use it. Thus their startled expressions at such a weak spell was confusing, it didn't even drain a large amount of magika.

"How did you do that? You just cast a wandless _protego_," the boy, Harry, asked.

"A wandless what? I cast a simple ward spell that I know. That was a rather weak spell, I must say. I will grant ingenuity for making a spell that's sole purpose is to render the opponent unconscious, but overall to many ways to counter such a spell could be made. There should be an effective and efficient way to ensure that the subject remains under the effects of the spell for however long the caster wants and not until any individual came along to reverse what was done," Adam had slipped into the mode he used when teaching new students at the College. He looked at the boy and smiled at the interest he saw in those eyes, already he had made a young mind wonder.

The smile was wiped from his face when he noticed the small entourage approaching from the same direction that the small man was in. At the lead of this particular pack was an old man who could make the Grey Beards envious at the length of his facial hair. How did it not get stuck in everything? The man was dressed in a shade of purple that made Adam's own clothes seem mundane in comparison, and had half-moon spectacles upon his face.

The old man stopped a few yards from the pair of saviors, his eyes twinkling. Adam felt an intrusion into his mind, far weaker than any of the Deadric princes he had had in there, but still an annoyance. With a quick mental slice he severed whatever connection was being made. The old man blinked, startled, before grinning in way that made Adam fearful that Seogorath himself had paid this man a visit.

"Greetings, I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and many other things; may I enquire as to who you are?" The old man introduced himself, asking for the same courtesy. Then as an afterthought he added, "and what you are?"

Seeing no need to hide his identity in a world dimensions apart from his own, as well as the need to reveal the multitude of his experiences, Adam returned, "I am Adam; Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold, Nightingale of Nocturnal, Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, Harbinger of the Companions, Champion to several pantheons and Deadric Princes, Ysmir the Dragon of the North, Champion of Cyrodiil, former Blade, the Hero of Kvatch, Savior of Burma, Grand Champion of the Arena, Former Deadric Prince and God of Madness. Known to my world as the Dragonborn, or Dovahkiin if you speak the language of the Dovah."

Faas-Ru-Maar

Albus Dumbledore smiled at the strange individual with more titles than him. The stranger was broad shouldered and towered above Albus, even if he was only inches taller than the hundred plus year old man. There was a distinct difference between the two of them though, clear for all to see; while Dumbledore hid his experience in his eyes, the golden man wielded his experience with every muscle of his body.

Albus' smile turned into a smirk and told the man, "I was referring to your species, not your titles my good man. But if you at some point wish to share some of the stories you no doubt have about them I will be glad to hear them."

Adam smirked as well, showing his slightly yellow teeth with the slightly elongated incisors. His smile was similar to that of a predator who had caught an interesting prey and wished to play for a bit. His eyes stayed level with the old man and he said, "But I felt that my titles might increase the chances of me leaving this arena without a scratch, not my species. I will however tell you what I am; I am an Altmer, born of Even and Lillian during the third era of the empire."

Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow and stated, "I know of no empire or third era, and as much as I know of the world I have never heard of any being identified as Altmer."

"That is because I am not from this world," Adam said clearly, shocking the crowd that had grown around him, Albus and Harry, "I entered into a pact with Mehrunes Dagon; Deadric Prince of change, destruction, and several other things. I agreed to return his knife in exchange for travel to a more peaceful realm than that of my home."

At this statement a rather large man burst through the throng and strode towards the three in the center. The fat man wore an absurd shade of green that reminded Adam of a pile of dragon dung that had landed near him once, and had a strange round hat on his head.

The fat man opened his mouth and began to speak, as it had to be called because no other words properly described the layers of fat working together to produce sound, "Then you are in this country illegally and have attacked one of our governments most respected officials! Aurors! Arrest this man!"

Zun-Haal-Viik

Harry knew as soon as the minister arrived that something bad was going to happen. Mostly it was the way Adam's face tensed and his eyes became sharper, but it might have been the fact that his own danger sense had alerted him to the vibe in the air.

The second after the minister shouted for the Aurors, things sped up for Harry. In the way he usually watched for the snitch in a Quidditch game, Harry watched in slow motion as an ethereal blade materialized in the gold warriors hand and thrust at the ministers neck. The blade stopped as the very tip pierced the skin, drawing a drop of blood upon the blade. Time resumed its normal course, with Adams blade at the Minister of Magic's throat.

The Aurors who were making their way to arrest the stranger stopped and slowly drew their wands. Harry watched as they pointed them at Adam and waited for something to happen. All this time the Altmer had not moved his eyes from the minister, and then he spoke, "I have brought no harm to any people of you land. I have not broken any laws, unless self-defense is unlawful in your lands. And I was simply having a pleasant conversation with another well-experienced man and a fellow warrior before you decided to trample in like a rampaging giant, declaring me an outlaw. I have killed men for less, smiling while I cut the hearts from their chests."

There could be no sound heard for a hundred yards as the golden man's worlds were digested. I was therefore easy to hear the roar of the enraged Hungarian Horn-Tail, which was still unrestrained.


	3. The World Eater is Dead

Magic of a Different Sort Chapter 3

The World Eater is dead

The Hungarian Horn-Tail is regarded as the fiercest dragon on earth. It is a vicious killing machine with natural instincts matched only by sharks in water. They are long, boney, and spiked. They reek of death and blood while striking an intimidating pose. The sight of one was enough to send many experienced wizards into a state of catatonic fear. To say the Dragonborn was unimpressed with the way the magic users reacted to the roar was an understatement.

There was a collective scream as the hundreds of people who had so foolishly followed the round man down into the arena looked at the dragon before them. It was glaring with such hate that many wet and soiled themselves upon the sight. It was noticed that the dragon's glare rested on only a single individual, the gold-skinned man that had the ethereal blade at the Minister of Magic's throat.

The man kept the blade at the Ministers throat and returned the gaze evenly. The crowd slowly parted to keep a clear line open between the stranger and the dragon. The staring match lasted for several moments before the Dragon growled at the man. The thing that shocked the people gathered however, was that the growl sounded like words. The man raised an eyebrow and their was a collective intake as he began to speak in a strange tongue, "Drem, Dov do smoliin. Mu yah ov, ahrk dinok dreh nid gein moro. Mu fent zaan ko fin ro do joorre. If you can."

"Of course I can speak as mortals do! Do not test my patience Fahliil!" There was another collective scream as the Horn-Tail spoke. It's voice less powerful that the red dragon's, but far more shocking. The dragon shot the collective humans an encompassing glare and snorted in disgust, "These pests think the Dov to be week, stupid creatures. But we shall have the final laugh when Alduin returns from his exile!"

Faas-Ru-Maar

Adam smirked at the proclamation given by the dragon, it seemed as though Alduin's fate was not felt in this reality so he did not have to worry about vengeful lizards trying to guzzle him down in revenge. It looked as though the dragons of this realm were not even the same as they were in the time of the Soul Eater, probably raised to idolize the black beast from the time they hatched; pathetic and satisfying at the same time.

Adam dispelled his blade and strode toward the dragon, ignoring the indignant spluttering of the round man in green. The premade path made his target all the easier to reach, and the gathering of Bretons parted even further as he approached the dragon and closed the retreat behind him. He barely noted the warrior child and the elder following him through the throng.

He marched with a purpose he had thought done away with long ago, vanished with the rest of his life's meaning. The feeling filling him made him wish to leap with joy, shout in exultation, and dance with merry abandon. But there was a time and place, and he could do all of those things with his wife. So, ignoring the strong feelings penetrating him, he stopped in front of the bronze dragon before him.

"The World Eater is dead, killed by my own hand in Sovngarde!" The declaration left him and he watched the dragon before him look down upon him in a manner a cross teacher would look at a bad child.

"The World Eater can not be killed mortal! Only one could do such an act and he does not exist in this realm!" The dragon retrieved its natural arrogance once more. Its neck straitened and its head stared directly down at the impetuous elf before it, "You will die for your insolence!"

Yul-Tool-Shul

Harry watched in growing horror as the Altmer strode to the dragon and began speaking to it. That the dragon was responding did not strike as much a nerve as the pure confidence that the man exuded, it was as though he knew that nothing the dragon did could hurt him.

He watched as they talked and his alarm tripled as the dragon declared that something called 'Alduin' would make them suffer. Sharing a look with the headmaster, the pair decided that it would be a good idea to deal with the dragon before it decided to simply eat or fry them all. Their wands rose simultaneously and they prepared to cast the most powerful spells they knew in an attempt to deal with the great lizard.

Before they could the man said something to the dragon and it straitened itself and shouted it would kill him. The large gathering of wizards gave a collective intake of breath and began to retreat until it was only Harry, Dumbledore, Adam, and the Horn-Tail in a wide circle. The Dragon took a deep breath and gave a roar and coated the man in a wreath of flame.

Harry could do nothing but watch, as the man seemed to vanish into the inferno. Inhaling once more the dragon released its stream of fire and snorted in satisfaction as it turned its attention to the pair of wizards still in reach.

Joor-Zah-Frul

Adam smiled as the dragon turned its head, not even bothering to look for a corpse. He had killed many creatures that way and it would be so fun to punish the insolent worm. Taking a breath of his own, Adam shouted, "_Joor-Zah-Frul!_"

The dragon was wreathed in a glowing blue aura. The aura seemed to force the creature down and it could not ever roar in protest. It saw the mortal it had tried to fry not ten seconds earlier for daring to say that their master was dead. It looked him in the eyes, and saw the truth finally. It saw that the being in front of her was Dovahkiin, and the killer of the World Eater.

The dragon knew fear.


	4. Spread the Word and a Champion's Tale

Magic of a Different Sort Chapter 4

Spread the Word and a Champion's Tale

Adam's eyes stared into the fear filled globes of the dragon. If it could it looked as though it would have soiled itself. He allowed himself another smirk and the dragon trembled even more.

"I will allow you to live Dov, but I expect my will to be done!" The dragonborn told the bound horntail. He conjured an ethereal blade and held it up to the dragon's eye before saying, "I want you to spread the word! The Word Eater is DEAD! By the hands of the dragonborn of Nirn, and I will not tolerate insolence!"

The dragon, already fearing for its life nodded with all its strength, eyes never leaving the blade pointed at it. Dragons are used to being the absolute top of any food-chain they dwelt in. They could not even die properly, only a word from another dragon and they were back on their feet. But the Dovahkiin was on earth, and true death awaited for any who opposed him.

"Then I will leave you will a parting gift Dov," Adam told the bronze dragon; before plunging the blade into its left eye.

Krii-Lun-Aus

The shriek of agony could be heard for miles around. The centaurs in the forest looked to the stars and saw omens, the acromantulas skittered to their mother and Aragog shuddered in fear. The various beasts knew that the top of the chain had been replaced and it was as though nature itself stopped and turned its attention to the gold skinned man standing before a half-blinded dragon.

The assembled humans standing in the arena could not turn their eyes from the bloody sight before them. The Minister of Magic clutched his throat and thought of what the blade could have done to him. Eyes watched as the dragon gave no retaliation to its injury and as quickly as it was able spread its wings and flew from the arena into the surrounding wilderness.

Once the dragon was firmly out of sight the Altmer dispelled his blade and turned to Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore, "Now if we could continue the conversation we were having earlier…. In a more comfortable setting if at all possible."

Dumbledore was the first to respond, with a grand smile and eyes twinkling he indicated for the Dovahkiin to follow him. Harry quickly caught up to the aged pair and they passed once more through the crowd. As they reached the center, The Minister glared at them and looked to be about to say something. Before he could however, Lucius Malfoy, who had approached the round man, placed a hand on his shoulder and gave a stiff shack of his head.

They two fell in line behind Harry. Soon enough the five reached the perimeter of the arena and exited. Dumbledore turned his head to Adam as they walked along the green slopes towards the grand castle Hogwarts in the distance, "I feel that this conversation can be held in my office at the castle, I fear the cold may be getting to me."

Kaan-Drem-Ov

The castle was immense, larger than any Adam had seen in his day. It was as large as an Oblivion spire and twice as wide. Looking with a critical eye he could see the traces of children, students of the school the castle played host to. As they ventured up the strangely moving stairs, he took stock of the man he had yet to make the acquaintance of.

Tall, thin, and blond hair that was just shy of pure white; the man reminded him of an agent of the Thalmor. Arrogant and sure of his power, no doubt an advisor to the wide man in green, Arcano, that had been the agent's name. Adam remembered well sliding his blade into the traitor's throat. Hopefully this one would prove more intelligent.

The Headmaster brought them before a stone golem and said, "Lemon Sherbert."

The Golem sprung to the side, the speed making Adam enter his defensive stance out of reflex. Seeing that the stone creature would remain stone, he relaxed and followed the group up the rotating steps that were behind it. Dumbledore opened the door to his office and swept inside, making sure everything was orderly and conjuring two extra chairs for the Minister and Malfoy.

Settling himself in his chair, Albus looked at the golden skinned man and signaled for him to tell his story. Adam nodded to the non-verbal command and began to speak, "When I was a boy, almost three hundred years ago, I was a rebellious youth; quick to anger and even quicker with a blade. When I was twenty I was already the champion of the Cyrodiil, and a major player in the thieves guild of that time. Then I was arrested… imprisoned for a crime I never committed, but the Divines sought my incarceration, and so I was jailed. While in the jail there was an attack on the Emperor, and his guard felt it prudent to evacuate him. And so they came to my cell.

"When the Emperor first saw me, it looked as though he had seen a ghost, for he knew that he would die that day. He was assassinated in front of me as we were making our escape. With his dying breath he entrusted me, a kid who did not deserve anything near the trust an Emperor could give, with the Amulet of Kings. The Amulet was a symbol of the power the Emperor held over his people, blessed by the God Akatosh himself.

"I was entrusted with the Amulet, and I felt I owed my freedom to the Emperor, and so I took it to an aging monk. Jaufree told me to find the heir to the throne, Martin. I did. But after many adventures and growing of the both of us, I had to watch him die… he sacrificed himself to seal the gates of Oblivion and free our land from the grip of terror it had been in, becoming the Avatar of Akatosh.

"Then it was over, and the day was won… and I went back to my ways. I became guild master of the Thief's Guild, and I fought more in the Arena, but I was not happy, nor was I content. Then a new journey presented itself to me, and I went to the Shivering Isles.

"What occurred on that island is not important, what is important is the end result. I was given a choice, to become the newest version of the mad god Sheogorath…and I did. For close to two hundred years I was the Mad God, Deadric Prince and all." _At this the Minister looked ready to say something scathing, but Lucius stopped him. The interest the white haired man held was apparent. _ "After some time I decided to appoint a new successor and after so choosing left my realm and returned to Nirn, my home realm. But much had changed in the two centuries I was away.

"When I returned to Nirn it was in the mountain range between the land of Cyrodiil and Skyrim. The Empire imprisoned me almost immediately. I would have had my head removed had it not been for the intervention of the World Eater, the great black dragon Alduin. The dragons of Nirn were returning to life and I soon discovered that I was something called Dragonborn, or Dovahkiin in the dragon tongue. I theorize that seeing the divine form of Akatosh had something to do with it, as he is the Dragon God. The appearance of Alduin signaled the end of the world, something that I had to stop. So I became proficient in the Thu'um, or shout. And I killed Alduin in Sovrngarde, the resting realm of all Nords. I then turned my attention to the political climate of Skyrim.

"During my absence the Elves of the Summerset Isles had grown into a power of their own and waged war upon the empire, and the empire had become weak and complacent. They lost the war and in the treaty they made, they banned the worship of one of the Divines, Talos. Talos was a mortal who had achieved divinity in much the same fasion as myself.

"Upon realizing this I felt the connection and allegiance I felt towards the old Empire die. So I went on a campaign to hinder them. I joined with the rebellion in Skyrim and joined the Dark Brotherhood in the hope that they would assign me jobs to assassinate high members of the Empire. I got my wish in that regard, killed the Emperor, and the man who hired me to kill him. After his death it was a simple matter to deal with the imperial presence in Skyrim. I then turned my attention to the arcane.

"I joined the College of Winterhold and after a signifigant number of adventures and odd jobs I had to execute the Thalmor Advisor to the archmage. The Thalmor were the force from the Summerset Isles. I was appointed Archmage after that. I have done many things in my life, and will continue to do many things, but my connection to Nirn has been severed over time.

"I felt a change in location was necessary, so I made a deal with Mehrunes Dagon, the Deadric Prince of change, destruction and a number of other things. In exchange for his Razor; I would be sent somewhere I was not known, and would be free to make own path." Looking at the four before him, who had expressions of contemplation, alarm, worry, or disbelief on their faces he ended his story, "And that is the tale of my life."


	5. The New Professor

Magic of a Different Sort Chapter 5

The New Professor

The Student body of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang sat on the long benches in the Great Hall, waiting for both dinner and some information as to who the strange man that had interfered with the task was. After the headmaster had taken the man, as well as the boy-who-lived, the minister, and Malfoy Sr. up to his office the teachers had called the crowd to order and sent those individuals who were not members of the school home. The Headmasters of the French and Bulgarian schools had then taken their students back to their respective quarters with an agreement that they would return at dinner to get some answers from Dumbledore.

They now sat, awaiting the headmaster in the hopes of finding out who the strange man was. They did not have long to wait, as after five or so minutes the doors to the great hall opened and the headmaster entered, followed by the gold skinned man that peeked the interest of so many. Many failed to notice Harry Potter as he slipped into the hall and quietly to the Gryffindor table. Sitting next to his friend Hermione he refused to answer any questions and simply pointed to the pair that made their way to the front of the Hall.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention for a brief moment before the food arrives?" Dumbledore asked, unnecessarily. The Hall remained quiet and many waited with baited breath for whatever was to come. Dumbledore waited a moment before speaking again, "I would like to present to you, a new professor. Arch-Mage Adam has agreed to teach any willing young mind the art of Deadric magic! The offer is of course open to those students visiting for the tournament. Now I will let the Arch-Mage say a few words."

Adam nodded to the headmaster as the old man took his seat. Turning to the sea of curious faces he took a breath and spoke, "Greetings young men and women. After a great deal of discussion between your headmaster and myself I have agreed to teach you the magic of my dimension, for I am not from this plane of existence. So what I will teach you will be new will be strange, and not many of you will be strong enough to learn this form of magic. This Sundas I will be holding a simple examination to test your reserves of Magicka. If you fail you will not be in my lessons and if you succeed you will begin on Morndas. I will have scrolls with the necessary information placed in your dorms. Those of you who wish to learn are more than welcome.

With that he sat down next to the enormous man who introduced himself as Hagrid. They spoke of the different magical creatures in the land and after a few comments the large man asked him what Sundas and Morndas were. Adam started and realized he had not thought to explain the days of the week to the children and resolved to put the needed information in the scrolls he would give them.

Faas-Ru-Maar

"What is he?" Hermione had held her tongue for the announcement but she could no longer contain her curiosity. She was worried about her friend, and wanted to know what the man had said to put him in such a funk.

Harry had sat down and not said a word, simply refused to speak until the headmaster and the stranger were done talking. But from the look on his face she could tell he was thinking of things that did not often cross his mind. He had an air of somebody who's who belief in the world had been shaken.

"He's a savior Hermione," Was the first thing he said, "the place he's from is so violent and mad, and he has probably killed more people than Voldemort and his death eaters combined; but he has saved an entire planet twice over. The world he's from is so violent that it deals with monsters that make the basilisk look like a puppy. I can't complain anymore Hermione; everything I've been through… he's been through worse and come out on top."

His last statement reverberated with her, like with a single sentence a whole world falls apart and a new one is born. Because of this stranger, Harry Potter was going to accept his lot in life. She saw him as just Harry for most of the time she had known him, but now he was saying that he would live up to the title of the Boy-Who-Lived. He would finally accept what she had known since Halloween four years ago, that Harry Potter was a hero.

Gaan-Lah-Haas

The Sunday after the first task came slow to many of the occupants of the castle. They all wanted to see the strange magic that the Altmer had. So, a good hour before the exam even began, the Great Hall was packed with people hoping that they could learn. Many of the teachers had come as well, watching in awe as almost the entire student body arrived to learn.

AS the clock struck twelve the doors opened once more and Adam walked in, flanked by two women that nobody had seen before. The first wore metal armor a dark shade of black and the other walked like a muggle supermodel and had a strange scroll on her back.

Most noise stopped as soon as the three entered the hall, and those that did not take the hint found themselves at the receiving end of several angry glares. Adam waited until the hall was silent before speaking, "Welcome, I am glad that so many of you wish to learn from me, and I hope that many of you will pass my test. With me is my Wife Serana of the Volkihar Vampire clan, and my Housecarl Lydia. For those of you who are curious as to how they are hear, it is an advanced bit of magic that I created myself. Now on to the test."

With that said a blue sheen entered his hands and he waved his hands together and thrust them towards the ground. A purple sphere erupted into existence and swirled with power. The collected humans watched in awe as the sphere beat like a heart before dissipating. Standing where the sphere had formed stood a creature that could easily be described as a demon; it wore glowing black armor, stood seven feet tall, and had red skin with horns. It gave a look around and saw Adam standing in front of it, it then spoke in a rasping voice, "What is it you want, Dragonborn?"

"If you would be so kind as to get me my spell tomes Fr'an'fled," Adam told the demon, "And if you do it fast I'll give you an extra soul gem."

Greed filled the creature's eyes and it vanished from existence for a second before re-appearing with a large chest at its feet. Adam nodded and pulled a black crystal from his belt and threw it at the demon. With a cackle that sounded like a man being tortured, it split the gem in half and sucked at the black substance within. Everybody could hear an anguished scream coming from the gem before the demon vanished from sight once more.

"Now then," Adam continued, ignoring the looks he was receiving from the humans around him, "We can begin our lessons. Everybody form a line and you will be given a beginner's tome."


	6. All in Good Health

Magic of a Different Sort Chapter 6

All in Good Health

It took a moment for the students to get moving, which Adam could understand perfectly. He had just fed a living soul to a Dremora for speed delivery. None of the people here had ever seen a Dremora and the shock would be enough to scare anybody that was unprepared. He remembered the first time he had seen one, after Jaufree had told him to get Martin. That was a bad day if ever there was one.

It was the younger children that managed to get over their fear first, the curiosity of a child and all that. They made their way up to Serana and waited for the books to be given. Adam saw the eager expressions on their face and decided that he needed to set a warning, "Alright everybody! I do not want anyone to one their books until I say so! Deadric magic is fickle and if you rush things you may doom yourself to failure."

His eyes locked on each of the people in line and one by one received a nod of acceptance. Smiling to show he was not angry or frustrated, or any other negative emotion, he nodded to his wife and she began handing out spell tomes. As he watched the line increase in size he was ever grateful he had managed to retain some of the powers of his stint as a god, and that he had had the foresight to create the chest.

The chest was a neat bit of magic from his days as Sheogorath, it took the concept of being an absolute to the extreme. It was everything and nothing at the same time, cursed with madness infinite. If any opened the chest and stared too long they would be driven made, if they opened it and reached in without intent they would be sucked in. But the greatest bit was that if someone opened the chest, knowing what they were going to find, it would be there. That was why Serana was able to get the ridiculous number of tomes.

Gaan-Lah-Haas

Soon, everyone had a spell tome in hand and amazingly nobody had peeked ahead. Harry sat on the Gryffindor table with Hermione and Neville, all three were waiting for the go ahead to open the books. Hermione had almost opened hers right after getting it, but Harry had grabbed her hand and shaken his head solemnly when she had looked up from it.

Ron Weasley sat a few feet from them, giving them an occasional glace filled with a mixture of guilt and jealousy. They did their best to ignore him, Hermione had resolved that she should stop trying to balance Harry and Ron and side with one; she had chosen Harry because he could die without help from her. Neville just thought Ron was a jackass.

"So what do you think is in these?" Hermione asked with excitement, "There must be a load of spells in these, and it feels ancient!"

Harry shrugged and looked at the still closed book with a bit of apprehension, worried that it would be something bad. He was looking at the image on the front cover when an almighty clang could be heard throughout the Hall. All eyes were directed at the Slytherin table, where a seventh year was being hauled to his feet by a decidedly smaller Lydia.

The seventh year was quite obviously Marcus Flint, who had had to repeat the last year at Hogwarts twice. The now nineteen-year-old student struggled against the smaller woman but he could not break her grip, and hitting her only hurt his own hand. Lydia roughly frog marched him to the door and booted him out.

Seeing that the entire Hall was looking at her she shrugged and said, "Idiots shouldn't learn magic."

Fred and George Weasley could not contain their mirth at that statement. They burst out laughing and started hugging their sides. It was all too soon before the entire hall erupted into laughter at Flint's plight. Lydia simply stood at the doorway with a look on her face that bled confusion, "What? The fool was about to open the book. Adam told all of you not to do so."

This made the twin Weasleys laugh harder. It took a fair amount of time to settle the students down, but once they were a throat clearing could be heard. Eyes moved to the now seated Adam and Serana. He was sitting in a simple chair with his hands clasped together, "Lydia has just demonstrated the necessary approach to Deadric magic, I do not suffer fools. The simple fact that he was going to open the book told me that he was unsuitable for this class. Had Lydia not caught him, I would have stopped him. I do not suffer those that do not listen to my instructions."

Standing he strode into the center of the room, "Deadric magic is a dangerous practice. The very use of it is a double-edged sword, you may learn to master the flame but you can still be burnt. Much like the Deadra themselves, their magic is fickle and deadly. If you do not master it, it masters you… And I have killed my fair share of bandit magic users in my day."

The students and teachers all took in an audible breath, making it sound as though there were a gigantic vacuum in the Hall, though only the Muggle-borns would know what a vacuum was. The idea that anyone would freely admit to taking a life was a foreign concept to them. Even the Death Eaters, the ones that weren't insane, drove for plausible deniability and never killed without their masks on.

Barty Crouch Jr. was worried. He knew his disguise as Mad-Eye was fool proof, with no way to tell who he really was. But with a new player on the board fulfilling his masters plans would be all the harder. He needed to see the full extent of his power before even making a move.

Krii-Lun-Aus

"Alright, if everybody would now open their tomes," Adam declared.

There was a shuffling and a scuffling, and almost as one all of the books opened. All the gathered humans saw strange letterings that they could make neither heads nor tales of. Then the words began to swirl, as though being flushed down a toilet. The ink started fading from the pages and information began filling the minds of the people. They could not release the books and all of them were made to watch as the books in their hands burned from within.

As soon as the ink began to fade, Harry had begun to panic. His thoughts turned to second year and the diary of Tom Riddle, which had managed to possess Ginny. This then made him think of Ginny and of what hell she would be in because of this. Before he could think further though his brain was filled with formulas in strange symbols and an innate understanding of the symbols. He was gazing in wonder at the now burning book when his attention was drawn to the area the teachers were in.

As the tomes burnt, Barty Crouch felt a strange rippling sensation along his skin. It was as like the polyjuice transformation in reverse, and it was not a pleasant sensation. He cried out in pain as his leg re-grew and his real eye popped out the fake one. Knowing that he was drawing attention to himself with his cries, he tried to get up and leave; but the tome would not let him. No matter what he did the tome stayed in place in midair, with his hands attached and eyes locked on it.

Lydia noted the strange regeneration of the elder man and made her way over to him. She was both worried and wary, knowing the dangers of approaching a strange man in the middle of a fit. Taking a good look at the now younger man she could see that he looked nothing like he had originally, duplicity immediately sprang to mind and she drew her blade.

When The books all stopped burning the majority of the student body saw the strong woman that had just removed Flint holding a sword to a strange man's throat. They heard clearly as she asked, "State your name imposter!"

When the man made no response other than to get away she clocked him on the head and picked him up. Turning to her Thane she nodded and stated, "I shall present this intruder to the Arch-Mage of this school."

"Ask the paintings for directions," Adam said by way of dismissal. He watched as she left with the man before turning back to the crowd, "Now who would like to learn some magic?"

Kaan-Drem-Ov

A cheer went up and the scene with the stranger left most minds while the rest decided it could wait. Adam smiled, waiting for quiet once more, "The spell you have all just learned is called Heal, it is called that because that is exactly what it does.

"I have chosen to test you all on your ability to sustain this spell. In Deadric magic there are three ways to cast a spell; single use, charged, and sustained. Sustained spells are the easiest to use for beginners, thus why I am starting you at this. I want you all to form two single file lines in front of Serana and myself and we shall test you. If you are able to sustain the spell for five seconds you will be admitted into my class, if not you must continue to practice the spell. As with all things practice makes experience , and experience increases Magicka reserves.

"Now line up."


End file.
